Turning 32

Arg, can't believe I've just written *that* number. I also can't believe that it's been three years already since I wrote my list 'age' piece (turning twenty-nine).

'Thirty-two' feels like you're definitely and concretely in your thirties. You're no longer 'just' thirty or thirty-one; ages which only barely put you over the threshold of passing from your twenties to your thirties. When you're thirty, you're really just twenty-nine plus a few months. But when you're thirty-two, you're twenty-nine plus a whole lot of months.

I've always been quite obsessed with ageing and the passing of time. My husband and my friends find it quite amusing. I'm always 'dipping into the past', trying to find out as much as I can about my family's history, badgering my mum with questions about her youth, and especially about my dad who sadly passed away when I was fifteen. Maybe this is one of the reasons I worry so much about time passing. I'm worried about losing other people I love, because I know that, eventually, time will take them away from me.

I see ageing on my face. My smile lines stick around long after I've finished smiling. I think it was last year that I first noticed tiny, thin lines across my forehead. So tiny that I had to stick my nose about a centimetre away from the mirror to see them. Still, I invested in a good facial serum and I've been using it ever since. Being in your thirties is: spending an equal amount of time trying to keep any spots at bay whilst simultaneously trying to prevent fine lines from 'settling'. Can I get an amen???

I know that my friends and family are ageing too, but somehow I don't see it as much on them. They seem like the same people I've always known, inside and out. Maybe it's because when you love someone, you love them for who they are, and who they are tends to remain unaltered with time. If I were to keep remembering this, maybe it would help me with my 'fear of ageing'. I'll always be me, regardless of how old I am. I don't need to fear becoming old and boring, because certainly there's always something I can do about the 'boring'.

On the flip side, I do love being in my thirties. I was so terrified about turning thirty, but really, my thirties have been quite super thus far. I'm definitely more confident and self-assured than I was in my twenties. I'm married now, I earn more than I ever have (apart from my first year in France when it seemed like the French rectorat, the British Council and Scottish university funding all wanted to throw large quantities of money in my general direction to be a language assistant).

On a superficial note, my skin's the clearest it's been since I was about fifteen. I'm maybe in a slightly bigger body than I was then, but I take care of it. I'm probably the fittest I've ever been and have learned how important it is for me to work out daily. I've learned what I like to wear, what colours compliment me, and how to do my make-up.

But far more importantly, I've learned about what matters. I've learned how to say 'no' (even though it can be hard!). I've learned that taking time for myself isn't selfish; it's necessary. I've learned that other people's reactions aren't my problem. I've learned about what makes me tick. I've healed from trauma, whilst realising that healing isn't linear, and that grieving may last for a lifetime. I've found friends I want to keep in my life forever. Friends who are real and true and truly themselves, allowing me to be truly myself.

I've learned that time and distance doesn't 'un-make' a friendship. My best friend and I communicate just about weekly, and we are 1, 651 miles apart (I Googled it!) I know what's going on in her life and she knows what's going on in mine. We support each other using technology. She's no less my best friend because she lives in Finland and I in Scotland.

I know that in the end, all that matters is love. I'm blessed to have a loving, supporting husband, a great family, and friends I would donate organs to.

I've learned that wanting to be happy isn't wrong. After all, if you're not happy, then what's the point? I've learned that one of life's greatest treasures is to be at peace with yourself. To question everything, and then, once I've found my personal truth, to hold on to that and not to let anyone steal it away.

I know I'm not old by any stretch of the imagination. On top of that, I have a playful (read: childish) spirit. Thirty-two going on thirteen, maybe. I like to dance around the kitchen in my pyjamas. I like girls' nights where we eat too many snacks, have a couple of drinks, maybe watch a romantic comedy and giggle about our school days. I still like purposely stepping on a crunchy leaf. I''ve got two unicorn T-shirts and most of my clothes are various shades of pink. When I watch a series on Netflix or a film, I often identify more with the teenager than the parent (who is much more likely to be my age).

I like doing work that makes me feel alive and doesn't just pay the bills. I've taken different roads (read: many different jobs!) to get here. Perhaps I don't do 'conventional' work, but I've always chosen to listen to my heart, even when it comes to jobs. I write and play music and paint, not necessarily because I hope it will 'pay off'. I do things because I want to, not because I have to.

That doesn't mean I don't take life seriously. I'm worried about climate-change like everyone else. I'm worried about losing work, about getting too fat, about having kids or not having kids. I'm worried about regretting things and not experiencing certain things. I'm worried life will become monotonous and difficult.

I don't know what the future will bring, but I do hope that thirty-two will be good to me. I also don't know when I'll be old, but I know it's not now. I once read that you're only old when you stop worrying about getting old. I'm definitely not there yet.

Thirty-two. An even number. A rather large flat-screen TV. A chest size I will never be again. A rather warm summer's day.

Thirty-two. A number that doesn't define me, although I think it's still a good one.